The Kids Are All Right.

I know that's a saying from somewhere, but I don't know where. That makes me a scholar.

First of all, sorry for misspelling "travelogue" in all but one of my entries. I suppose Spell-check was built into blogger for a reason.

So I'm here to discuss the kids in general, because it forces me to realize that these little knee-biting (Zoe is learning to gum people anyhow), snot-nosed (they both have colds), rugrats (Mostly Zoe, but she's learning to cruise fast!) also happen to be children of mine, not just really noisy housemates who don't pay rent and expect you to clean up their poop. But that's just the fun stuff.

Alex has a few new developments, the main one being able to bust a move when he has to. This boy will outdance any sucker - as long as its a Wiggles song, of course. He doesn't do it dependably, and his dances are infrequent and short, but when he hoofs it, boy. Travolta better watch his ass.

I also discovered the boy's finer sense of humor - he seems to think it's funny when I speak in a different voice, mostly like Henry the Octapus (see Wiggles.). He'll crack up, which further encourages me to do really bad accents of Baritone caliber weirdness. Other things that make him laugh? Torturing his poor little sister. He's also learning to drink from a cup, which would last for a few minutes before he's completely water logged, then he starts doing other things with the cup like dump it out, or take a mini-shower with it. He's doing pretty well considering no one really taught him that. Just wants to be like us, I guess.

He'll also ask for "Bubble" by name, and point to the bottle of Blowing Bubbles on top of the fridge. It's all fun and games when you bring it down, but when you try to put it back up, you had better learn to detach an appendage or have a bus full of clowns to distract him, because this boy doesn't like his bubbles taken away from him. He'll have a full-tilt tantrum, rest for a while, walk to the kitchen again, point to the top of the fridge, and go, "Bubble?"

Zoe has the greatest little laugh in the world, the kind of infectious burst that just makes your day better. Her laughter can be achieved by tickling her, surprising her, or attacking her with your head. Just driving my head into her tummy will cause her to go into a giggling fit. She's also profoundly curious, and will try to put everything foreign in her mouth. She is the living reminder that the vacuum has a function in this household. She's also getting some swiftness in her mobility. One moment she's in the living room and the next she'll be right at your feet, eating Alex's leftovers. Then she'll flash you a grin.

We're also finding out that Zoe loves playing on our bed. For some reason, when we put her on the bed, she'll brighten up and crawl around at hyperspeed, squealing and squeaking all over. If you pounce in front of her to prevent her from going over the edge, she'll just laugh and bounce the other direction. It's good to have this something that is just for her, since we feel like she doesn't get enough personal attention whatsoever.

Zoe also got a chance to experience grass for the first time, which is a rather non-eventful event. She'll sit there, look at the grass, move her hands around in it, move her legs around, and sit there some more. It's cute to watch, but I think only if you're a parent. Also, this weekend I exercised my right to be a bad parent by not applying sunscreen to my babies when we went for a walk. I wanted to find out if they had my tanning genes or not. I never used sunscreen before in my life, I just turned dark. My wife is quite dark as well, though I think it's simply because she wants so desperately to be just like me so her genes mutate to mimic mine. Copycat.

But yeah, the kids are great. Getting over their colds, and doing their jobs wearing us out. Whee!